tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32463332755099770452017-07-29T00:05:12.119-08:00Far From Nomelöki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comBlogger473125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-75461490848304238322011-12-22T10:21:00.002-09:002011-12-22T23:52:27.921-09:00The Last Blog Post<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FyxhQIh4n74/SOhfB-mwqpI/AAAAAAAACE0/kHOgmm2mjVA/s1600/20081002_316ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FyxhQIh4n74/SOhfB-mwqpI/AAAAAAAACE0/kHOgmm2mjVA/s200/20081002_316ed.jpg" width="200" /></a>Over the last three years, we have taken a journey together.<br /><br />It started <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-beginning.html">In the beginning</a> [link], will end with this last blog post, but oh! there is so much in-between.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJRgCWmuiHw/SUDInBWB35I/AAAAAAAACE0/YCh5J7eIhrE/s1600/20081209_446ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJRgCWmuiHw/SUDInBWB35I/AAAAAAAACE0/YCh5J7eIhrE/s200/20081209_446ed.jpg" width="200" /></a>I wish I could sum up the best things about my service in just a few sentences, but alas. I cannot. There is so much I want to say about being a PCV, but I have to believe that it has already been written within these pages.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gyfpaCcsjJU/St6wny4qRII/AAAAAAAACE0/LercfoVg8eg/s1600/09tealoki.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gyfpaCcsjJU/St6wny4qRII/AAAAAAAACE0/LercfoVg8eg/s200/09tealoki.jpg" width="200" /></a>For anyone out there who stumbles upon this blog, I hope the information contained here will help you decide if Peace Corps is right for you (see <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/search/label/Frequently%20Asked%20Questions">Frequently Asked Questions</a> [link], <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20PC%20Experience">the PC Experience</a> [link], <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20PC%20Life">PC Life</a> [link] or <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20PC%20Process">PC Process</a> [link]. I hope the stories, anecdotes, and soap-box rantings give you some sense of what it means to serve in such a distinguished institution. I have loved at least 78% of every minute of being a PCV. It is hard to imagine the rest of my life as an RPCV, but I know I can do it. Besides, I really don't have a choice. They delete my email from the group listserv this week.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5COVm3F6iJA/TcI1Fy5IS-I/AAAAAAAACMo/DSknoIl2viU/s1600/11lgt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5COVm3F6iJA/TcI1Fy5IS-I/AAAAAAAACMo/DSknoIl2viU/s200/11lgt.jpg" width="200" /></a>For all those inquisitive folks out there who may be wondering what I will be doing with the rest of my life, I hope to post tiny (one liner) updates from time-to-time. These won't be regular, but I hope to show the impact Peace Corps has had on my life (at least for the next year).<br /><br />Anyway, before I succumb to the tears threatening to fall any minute now, I just want to say:<br /><br /><br />Hörmətcilər (Azərbaycanlılar),<br /><br />Sizinlə xidmət etməyə imkan üçün ən lap daha çox sağ olun. Mənim xidmətim lap əla (zorsa) idi. İndi ən yaxşı Azərbaycanlı dostlarm almışam və sizə görə mənim sevgi gücüm çoxalır. Sağ olun demirəm. Helelik deyirəm.<br /><br />Oh yeah. And I am not on Facebook. You are going to have to <a href="mailto:lokitobin@gmail.com">email me</a> [link] if you want to say hi.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-33313061119889368812011-12-19T09:26:00.001-09:002011-12-22T04:41:38.902-09:00I am still working?Awhile ago, I wrote a post about "<a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2011/12/checking-out.html">checking out</a>" [link]. I find that each PCV goes through a slightly different, yet similar, checking out process. Work slows down and then ends completely. Good-byes are said and last meals shared. Weird handshake-hug-kisses are given and everybody starts crying.<br /><br />For me, I promised to stop by (Zaqatala) for a few days on my way out of town and fetter out a final action plan for a community English teaching co-op. I also am hoping to edit the final draft of a young girl's university personal statement. I also agreed to spend New Year's with Könül's family before saying my final good-byes. Yeah. This is happening.<br /><br />Three years ago, I thought leaving would be rather easy. I didn't anticipate the gut-wrenching feelings I would be experiencing or the promises that would rush from my lips (such as, yeah. Give me 6 to 8 months, and I will be back). As I sit here in Baku, being poked and prodded, I know that this is just a check box in the final chapter of Löki's life as a PCV and the beginning of my life as an RPCV.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-91007174870085431812011-12-19T03:38:00.000-09:002011-12-19T09:20:16.246-09:00Four DaysIn 4 days, I will be an RPCV.<br /><br />I find this rather unbelievable, thus I have committed to avoiding the obvious. I think this is very healthy* and although I appreciate the countless PCVs, friends, and family who call/email/Twitter questions, when my procrastination results in <i><b>my very healthy and normal</b></i> emotional breakdown and I finally make a post-Peace Corps plan, I will let you know.<br /><br />So...more "Happy Holiday" emails please. Less, "So, what's the plan" Tweets.<br /><br /><i>*Yup. I get that this plan is a bad plan. I just have no idea why it is more scary pondering my inevitable return to the U.S. than it was preparing for <strike>three</strike>&nbsp;two&nbsp;years overseas.</i>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-79325015395163375182011-12-16T04:10:00.000-09:002011-12-16T04:10:34.429-09:00Ready to Start Missing Outhouses<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VGBO6GUl8jw/TutC9KPZTJI/AAAAAAAACdc/NFkVmPxaGqU/s1600/11vil2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VGBO6GUl8jw/TutC9KPZTJI/AAAAAAAACdc/NFkVmPxaGqU/s200/11vil2.jpg" width="150" /></a>Just this week, Könül took me to her mother's village to say good-bye to her family and see this infamous place (infamous because we talk about it all the time, but I always seem to have an excuse not to take the 30 minute bus out there).<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qs1fuxAyUaM/TutC8SqSQqI/AAAAAAAACdY/jET_4O2zLkY/s1600/11vil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qs1fuxAyUaM/TutC8SqSQqI/AAAAAAAACdY/jET_4O2zLkY/s200/11vil.jpg" width="150" /></a>After a wonderful (<i><b>read: WONDERFUL</b></i>) lunch of fried potatoes and canned green tomatoes, we took a quick trip around the vil. Of course, I first needed to stop by the non-portable porta-potty. One of the cleanest outhouses I have visited in Azerbaijan, I have decided these puppies are not going to be something I miss. Bring on the squishy toilet seat covers and fluffy rugs!löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-33408019407288859142011-12-14T09:31:00.000-09:002011-12-14T23:59:58.870-09:00TurmoilThat is what I am experiencing right now.<br /><br />Well, that and immense procrastination.<br /><br />Today, the new Az9 Zaqatala Volunteer off-handedly commented that it's got to be hard leaving after being here for 3 years.<br /><br />Yeah.<br /><br />It is.<br /><br />I remember the day I left Alaska for Philadelphia (the staging site for PC Azerbaijan). I had signed up to ride stand-by and was lucky to get a seat on the earliest flight out of Nome. My dad and friends were waiting at the airport to say good-bye, and I barely waived to them as I bounded out to the plane. It seems so long ago now, and such a different time. I arrived in NY and hung with family - making jokes and being silly up until I stood in line waiting at the hotel to sign in and begin the next 2 years of my life. I stood, sandwiched between a young man named Charlie and another named Evan. We talked about blog-stalking each other and our ridiculous pre-service blog posts. After those awkward moments, I found my hotel room and met a person who would become one of my closest friends in PC, Amy T. (Amy and I would eventually be placed at the same site together). Later, I sat at a round table, across from a guy from Alabama (who I later learned studied Russian at his Alabama university and played in an instrumental rock band) and a couple who arrived later than late. That evening, I would find out that the husband of that duo shared the same birthday as me (along with half a dozen other similarities). Hours later, I would agree to head to dinner with a group of unfamiliar people and inadvertently try to shame a devout Jewish friend because he refused to add bacon to his veggie burger. He would also become one of my closer friends, a person who eventually (and unknowingly) lead me to the faith I now claim wholeheartedly.<br /><br />Arriving at JFK, I would eat at least 4 Hebrew National hotdogs while waiting for our plane to leave and annoy a young man enough that he thought I was the most anal-retentive person alive. Three months later, we were inseparable.<br /><br />In Azerbaijan, I would puzzle over why locals were not eating dinner (we arrived at the tail-end of Ramadan) and persuade an Azerbaijan to exercise with me in the early morning after less than 4 hours of sleep. Three days later, I was introduced to my host family which I never imagined would be the beginning of the next 3 years of my life.<br /><br />I have had 4 birthdays in Peace Corps (one while waiting for the plane to taxi away from the Nome airpot), 4 Christmases, a standing case of ringworm that just migrates across my body, lost 15 lbs, gained 15 lbs, ate sheep head soup, and pooped in my pants.<br /><br />How will I ever top all that?löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comZaqatala Zaqatala41.633546 46.64743tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-61044687791655456632011-12-13T06:58:00.001-09:002011-12-13T23:25:19.435-09:00From LCF to PCV*On December 8, I officially have been here longer than dirt, well, that's not true...but I have <b><i>definitely</i></b> been here longer than high-speed wireless Internet.<br /><br />Anyway, the newest group of PCVs (Az9) swore-in (went from trainees to Volunteers) last week. Although I arrived a bit frustrated (bad day for mass transiting), it was a surreal moment. But, let's forget about all that for a moment and focus on the topic of this post...which is not that.<br /><br />A few days after, I was finally back in Könül's home [with Könül], eating dinner and listening to her struggle to describe the last 3 months to her family. Pictures were shown, videos played, stories told, but it was obvious Könül was having difficultly capturing how her experience changed her. <br /><br />Later that night, we sat and talked about her future. All we needed to do was replace her smiling face with mine and there would be no difference between us.<br /><br />It never occurred to me how similar our experiences would be. For non-Bakuvian LCFs, spending 3 months away from family, living with a host fam (yup, they have to do that too), and experiencing Bakuvian life, well, it is almost as foreign to them as going from the US to Azerbaijan is for us PCVs. Dialects are different, new customs are introduced, and don't get me started on the food...Zaqatala is no Baku. Adjusting and teaching six-days a week must have been a bucket load similar to the beginnings of Peace Corps life anywhere. Geez. It seems so apparent now...<br /><br />Anyhoo, here Könül is, going through readjustment after returning home, just like I will be. A little scary and intimidating, I find it ironic that just last week I was worried that in a few months, Könül and I would have nothing to talk about. Eh. Not a problem now.<br /><br /><i>*LCF=Language and Cultural Facilitator &amp; PCV=Peace Corps Volunteer</i>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-22872762031078632262011-12-09T03:37:00.000-09:002011-12-09T07:32:17.909-09:00How to Bucket Bath an Afro<br /><div><b>You will need</b></div><blockquote class="tr_bq">1 metal bucket<br />1 plastic bowl<br />2 large washing tubs<br />An "eh" towel</blockquote><b>The Process&nbsp;</b><br /><ol><li><b>Bring a metal bucket full of water to a boil.</b> Performing an entire bucket bath (i.e. washing yourself too) is not recommended. You will need to boil a lot of water and you will get cold and annoyed quickly.</li><li>While waiting for the water to boil, <b>separate your hair into 4 sections</b>.</li><li><b>Remove water from stove and carry to your hamam.</b> Be careful not to douse yourself in boiling hot water. That is not fun and it makes a HUGE mess.</li><li><b>Fill a large washing tub half-way full of cold water. Pour in half the bucket.</b> Check the temperature (remembering your head is way more sensitive than your hand) and adjust as necessary.</li><li>K<b>neel over another washing tub.</b> A rolled-up towel placed under your knees helps.</li><li>Unbind one section of hair and using a medium-sized plastic mixing bowl (plastic is necessary), <b>wet the section</b>, using your fingers to help the process along. Repeat with each section, re-binding each section afterwards.</li><li>If the water is too cold, scoop out some hot water and pour into the washing tub. The plastic bowl will not shatter with the temperature change.</li><li>Unbind a section and <b>work in shampoo</b> or whatever you are using (I have been using a mixture of Castile soap and baking soda - great for dandruff). Re-bind.</li><li><b>Rinse using previously described rinsing method.</b></li><li>Unbind a section and <b>work in conditioner</b> if using. Repeat rinsing method (re-filling water bucket as necessary and dumping used water as necessary).&nbsp;Make sure to pay special attention to the hair line as getting water to these parts can be difficult.</li></ol>Good luck. My back always hurts afterwards.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-30062895787943683952011-12-07T03:16:00.000-09:002011-12-08T18:53:48.862-09:00"Checking Out"So, there is this <b><i>phenomenon</i></b> that happens around COS (Close of Service) to all PCVs. It happens to each of us at a different time and in a slightly different way, but it follows a pretty common path. For now, let's call it...<i><b>checking out</b></i>. <div><br /></div><div>I mean, that is what everybody else calls it, so we might as well stick with the verbiage, right?</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-23ElaAnMx4k/Tt4LlE6d7UI/AAAAAAAACdI/pLBUXWh4hFQ/s1600/11ltobin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-23ElaAnMx4k/Tt4LlE6d7UI/AAAAAAAACdI/pLBUXWh4hFQ/s200/11ltobin.jpg" width="200" /></a>Anyway, everybody checks out at one time or another. Whether it is changing jobs or moving to a new city, distancing yourself from those around you (and procrasinating packing up your crap) - this a pretty normal thing. Still, in Peace Corps it all takes on that special emotional tint (ahhhh! Spider crawling on my computer screen. Help!) that colors everything involving service.</div><div><br /></div><div>In this case, it involves finding closure to a chapter in your life and (possibly) concluding those intense emotional bonds you have developed over the last two years. It also means finishing up grant reports, filling out all the final paperwork, and making future plans...something I am not succeeding at right now.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway...speaking for myself, checking out has been a battle. In all honestly, I don't want to do it. I am procrastinating like crazy. I have no idea when I will return to Azerbaijan. I am hoping sooner than later, but...I'm currently jobless, a plane ticket costs lost of money, and I kind of don't want to increase my enviro footprint anymore than I already have - flying to Alaska is gonna burry me.</div><div><br /></div><div>So...for all intents and purposes, this really is good-bye. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know, I know. There is email and Skype and the U.S. Postal Service (Inshallah), but come on! It's gonna be hard keeping contact. Inherently, my life is on different path than those here in Azerbaijan and trying to maintain the bridge between the two worlds is going to be a struggle. Living here was the easy part. Now, somehow, I think maintaing these relationships will be the hardest part of my service.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Yup. I scared the spider away with my Spider-Scare-Away face.</i></div>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-49535444748509662482011-12-04T23:17:00.000-09:002011-12-04T23:17:00.483-09:00Part 4...Cultural DifferencesContinuing on with my story about how I became the PCV I am today, let's talk a little bit more about <b><i>my&nbsp;ego</i></b>.<br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />Now, I have talked about how when I first got here, I had <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2011/10/how-to-be-peace-corps-volunteerpart-1.html">my opinions and my ideas</a>&nbsp;[link]. Most of those opinions and ideas revolved around how to engage in community development, but some focused on cultural relativism. Growing up in rural Alaska, I fancied myself a "progressive" when it came to understanding the dynamics of majority-minority cultural living. My head was pretty big on this and no matter what cultural difference popped up, I was quick to point out [what I thought was] the underlying reason. Azerbaijanis rarely drink cold water and often blame the consumption of cold water as a cause of illness. "Duh," I would often say. If you want to make sure your water is clean and potable, you boil it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Anyway, a few months later and these differences began to seem normal to me, almost welcomed. It reminded me that I was living thousands of miles from home and I was doing something grandiose.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It wasn't until those intense, underlying cultural differences started to erode my understanding of Azerbaijan that I got frustrated. The gender dynamic here is so very different than the US, the way people view friendships and relationships, child rearing, the absence of coffee...every way I know how to interact with others is thrown out the window because Azerbaijan are not America.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I struggled to understand how to interact with my landlord or how to console my friend when a family member died (I have since learned that a casserole is not the right way to share in bereavement). Even after three years, I am still navigating Azerbaijani culture and making mistakes daily. I know I offend even my closest of friends with ill-timed words or judgement-filled questions. Even if I lived here for 5 more years, I do not think I would truly ever get it. I am too used to being given major amounts of leeway because I am American - and that is okay with me. I have adapted and so has my community. I guess that is the real point here, communication and acceptance - and lots and lots of laughter when I do or say something silly.</div>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-75280148139791216652011-12-02T03:15:00.000-09:002011-12-02T07:03:37.309-09:00I am weird now.I mean, I was totally weird before. Who (in their right mind) relates everything to Star Trek episodes? It is just, now I can relate everything to not just <i>Star Trek The Next Generation</i>, but also <i>Star Trek Voyager</i>, and <i>Star Trek Deep Space Nine</i>. I am working on my&nbsp;<i>Original Series </i>references.<br /><br />I have spent an inordinate amount of time watching Star Trek series in Peace Corps.<br /><br />Okay. Back on topic, and not Star Trek related, I am weird. I noticed this a few days ago when I was trying to talk with a friend about faith and went off on a bunny trail about my bowel movements.<br /><br /><b><i><u>Who does that?</u></i></b><br /><br />PCVs (soon-to-be RPCVs). That's who.<br /><br />Three years of Peace Corps service and I am way more socially awkward than I already was. Now, when I see a girl and boy walking alone together I cannot help but get whiplash from staring at them. Casual touches from boy - friends make me agitated and the idea of not spending all my computer time parked in front of a space heater or floor fan seems too foreign to contemplate.<br /><br />Adjusting to a different culture, a different way of viewing the world, was hard. I struggled for 6 months to understand simple concepts that even children here instinctively knew (like standing when someone important enters a room). Three years later, I have to re-adjust to my own culture after years of being away. I am worried I won't be able to do it. I am worried I will make a spectacle of myself or freak out in a shopping aisle. I worry about having normal conversations that do not revolve around how much fiber I had that week.<br /><br />I know these are all normal parts of preparing for re-entry, but I feel like I am going to be the odd man out at every turn. I know. I know. I should not be worrying about this...but I am.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-17024642822399078692011-11-29T07:56:00.001-09:002011-12-01T03:29:25.878-09:00Doing All The ThingsAs my COS date gets closer, I have noticed something off-putting:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><b>I am becoming frantic.&nbsp;</b></blockquote>Last week, I listened to 13 back-logged NPR Fresh Air podcasts. Two days ago, I catalogued all my books and brought half to Baku. Guess I will not be reading Schindler's List anytime soon (even though it has been on my to-read list for the last three years). <br /><br />Doing All the Things has become kind of a mantra for me. Too bad most of "all the things" won't happen. I wanted to learn to write and read Russian. I wanted to read the entire Quran. I wanted to go to Turkey. So many things I wanted to do and now my three years are up. I've started to ask myself what the heck have I been doing with my time, but stopped. It's too late to look back on all my missed opportunities. Now, I can only look forward and make a list of all the things I want to get done in the U.S. - Geez. That's what I should have done in the first place, made a list. <br /><br /><i>Totally wrote this on my new-used iPhone, Spot.</i>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-45735480266862141292011-11-25T00:54:00.001-09:002011-11-25T01:55:40.874-09:00Holiday Recycling<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u6MDc7ueHew/Ts9x8PdApUI/AAAAAAAACc0/8Pdw-Fa0NRI/s1600/11dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u6MDc7ueHew/Ts9x8PdApUI/AAAAAAAACc0/8Pdw-Fa0NRI/s200/11dance.jpg" width="150" /></a>After three years, many of my holiday stories seem to be repeating themselves. I wrote about my first <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2009/03/bayrammz-mubark-snlik.html">Novruz</a>&nbsp;[link], and then my <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2010/04/lew-tobin-was-here.html">second</a>&nbsp;[link], and then <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2011/03/novruz-novruz-novruz.html">another one</a>&nbsp;[link]...<br /><br />I would say my readers are probably looking for something new and exciting, but, just like America, holidays in Azerbaijan are pretty consistent. Novruz ushers in spring, Ramadan is a month-long test of my self-control, and Qurban signals the 15 kilos of persimmons that I will be gifted.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AJgOVCyGsgc/Ts9x8wX1hVI/AAAAAAAACc4/xWa16KC7Jgw/s1600/11pig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AJgOVCyGsgc/Ts9x8wX1hVI/AAAAAAAACc4/xWa16KC7Jgw/s200/11pig.jpg" width="150" /></a>Although the holidays are set on repeat, my experiences are not. My first year was spent trying to get a hold on what was going on around me. My second, I overindulged in sweets and revelry. This year, I brought it down a notch and have enjoyed the reduced speed and family time which comes with holidays in Az.<br /><br />Now, I feel more comfortable about local holiday traditions and crashing friends' houses for free food. I understand what is expected of me and even most of the classic holiday phrases tossed out at one and all. Still, I miss my own American holidays and look forward to celebrating St. Patrick's Day decked in green and Labor Day racing bathtubs. Holidays are always the hardest when you are away from home, but not so bad when you have pork kebabs.<br /><br /><i>Pictures are from the <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2010/12/fun-things-you-can-do-too.html">St. George's Day</a>&nbsp;[link]&nbsp;celebration in Qax.</i>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-21865235255985228082011-11-22T22:52:00.000-09:002011-11-22T22:52:00.359-09:00Here We Go Again [On My Own]<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n7bwrA-w6KA/TJLLjMPjiFI/AAAAAAAABzQ/yzEGRM-Q9lA/s1600/IMG_3366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n7bwrA-w6KA/TJLLjMPjiFI/AAAAAAAABzQ/yzEGRM-Q9lA/s200/IMG_3366.JPG" width="200" /></a>Jessica is leaving.<br /><br />I mean, Jessica's service is up and she is returning to the U.S. an RPCV, but the important piece to grab on here is: <b><i>Jessica is leaving.</i></b><br /><br />Even though I know in a few short weeks, I too will be on that peacing-out boat, watching my closest friend, confidant, and all-around goof-ball buddy cram all her stuff into a marshutka and drive away is pretty dang hard.<br /><br />When I first met Jessica, I really didn't know what to think. I did not know much about hispanic culture in America, but I was beyond ecstatic to have someone to share my personal service frustrations with, a person I knew would intimately get what I was complaining about. Jessica has been more than just a person to share those awful and awesome moments with. She has been a person who not only gets my frustrations, but does her darnest to make me laugh in-between the tears. Her smile and vivacity make the grayest days exciting and her commitment to her service energized me when I didn't think I could get through another day.<br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">She is one of those people that everybody just wants to be around. I couldn't imagine my service without her and I am beyond blessed have spent these last 2 year serving beside her. It totally sucks that she plans to live on the east coast for the rest of her life as I think she would do great in Alaska...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Or not. I don't think I have ever seen a plantain in A.C.'s.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Anyway, Jessica's leaving feels like the beginning of the end. There isn't ever going to be another time for me like this. I have no idea what to make of it, but I am going to try and make the best.&nbsp;</div>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-11371518064630715402011-11-20T08:59:00.000-09:002011-12-01T03:29:42.633-09:00The Emotional Roller CoasterToday, something frustrating happened. As a PCV who's getting ready to leave this country, I find my emotions are on a hair's trigger. I remember feeling this way when I first arrived, but somewhere down the line, everything just sort of balanced out. I began to understand the cultural nuances and chalked a lot of stuff up to a lack of information and access to diversity.<br /><br />Fast-forward to today and I wanted to dress down that curious grandpa in the most harshest of ways. I also wanted to immediately call someone and complain. I wanted to get online and rave. I needed to have my feelings validated.<br /><br />This emotional stress does happen a lot when you are a PCV. It's hard, being so far away from other Americans and especially the friends and family that you know would agree with you because they got your back. I read the current trainees' blogs and I remember how it felt to just have arrived in this country and ride that emotional roller coaster. I just can't believe I am on it again.<br /><br />It's hard, taking that deep breath and reminding yourself of all the things you know. When I do call a friend to complain, I often get dressed-down myself. I overreacted. I mitigated the importance of cultural communication styles. I misinterpreted the intentions. A part of me wants to explain away saying," I know, I get it. I've been here 3 years." I also know that just because I've got those 3 years under my belt doesn't mean I am some all-knowing and powerful PCV who can dictate the cultural norms. I still make mistakes. I still struggle.<br /><br />It just sucks that that emotional roller coaster sticks with you for your entire service. Sometimes you are on the big climb up and other times you are plunging back down. Personally, I try to keep all the crazy contained as I know regardless of how well I explain it, I inevitably will just make my host country and myself look bad if all I did was write the negative. Conversely, writing just the positive makes for bland reading. Finding that balance, well, that is part of the roller coaster too.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-1076531886658573212011-11-15T02:16:00.001-09:002011-11-15T02:21:33.057-09:00AY DA!So freaking unbelievable! Just a few hours ago, on Jessica's final trek around town, we discovered a local market - where there are aisles, a cash register, and the&nbsp;<i><b><a href="http://azer.com/aiweb/categories/magazine/83_folder/83_articles/83_islamic.html">pork cupeth</a>&nbsp;[link] runneth over</b></i>. GGEEEZZZZ.<br /><br />3 years in Azerbaijan and I finally find a place that would have offered a constant bacon supply. So. Bloody. Predictable.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-28877654419239675602011-11-12T03:40:00.001-09:002011-11-12T23:09:43.134-09:00I had a conversation about Azerbaijan's system of government.Long title that has little to do with the point of this post.<br /><br />So, as you all know my counterpart, Könül, is off putting new PC trainees through their paces. I am really happy for her, even while being a little lonely. I cannot believe how much in both our lives have changed since we met two years ago, but that is another post.<br /><br />Anyhoo, Könül not being here sucks. I used to go over to her house at least 3x a week. Now, when evening comes, I sit in my very cold apartment watching Star Trek Voyager episodes (almost done with the final season. Tear.). I miss her house's petch and cable.<br /><br />I also miss her mom's food.<br /><br />Anyway, back to my story. Where was I? Oh yes, so Könül is not here. Well, about a week into my sad sad existence, I got bored and decided I would just go hang out with Könül's mom and brothers by myself.<br /><br />At first, it was awkward. We would talk about Könül and I would gripe (alone) about watching a football game, a volleyball match, and a boxing tournament back-to-back. Unfortunately, without Könül to fight her brothers for the remote, it was just me against her family and we would watch more sports than even my friend Scott (a die-hard sports guy) watches in an evening.<br /><br />Of course, time passed and I grew more comfortable hanging out at Könül's house alone (and stealing the remote). Her family and I started talking about other things not Könül related. I started telling more stories and goofing around with my horrible Russian pronunciation. Jessica even jumps in with her weird Azerbaijani jokes that I still don't really understand. It's fun.<br /><br />And, at least once a visit, Könül's oldest brother lectures me about something. Last week, it was about the division of powers (the branches) in the Azerbaijani government. I can't say that I understood entirely what he was saying, but I did spend a couple hours with my Azerbaijani dictionary figuring out the new vocab I had learned.<br /><br />Overall, even though I am sad Könül is not here, I am really happy I am developing my relationship with her family. It makes the cold dark evenings pass so much more quickly when I am in the warmth of a home. Ugh. What am I going to do when I have to leave?löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-25251263862038419002011-11-09T03:49:00.000-09:002011-12-01T03:29:58.983-09:00The Calm Before the StormSo, a few days ago, I was hanging out in my house, watching my cinnamon rolls rise when I thought to myself: <b><i>I really should get to job searching. Eh. I will do that tomorrow.</i></b><br /><br />I woke up the next day, less than excited to start my Internet searching when BAM! (more like bam..., but I am using artistic license to make this story more exciting), I looked out my window to see snow blanketing the trees and icicles hanging from my laundry.<br /><br />I also realized I had no power.<br /><br />So, I shrugged my shoulders and worked on my DOS (Description of Service - a comprehensive document detailing everything I have done during the last three years...yeah. I was bored).<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HIs38ZEFMWU/Trp2KBNzgpI/AAAAAAAACcg/TuDm7t0mO2g/s1600/11snowstorm2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HIs38ZEFMWU/Trp2KBNzgpI/AAAAAAAACcg/TuDm7t0mO2g/s200/11snowstorm2.jpg" width="200" /></a>I then decided that for the remaining 30% of my computer battery life, I would read an epub version of <i><a href="http://www.percyjackson.co.uk/site/pj_extract_titancur.php">Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse</a>&nbsp;</i>[link].<br /><br />I was confident the power would come back on.<br /><br />Later that day, I finished <i><a href="http://www.chandlerburr.com/newsite/content/emperorofscent/more.php">The Emperor of Scent</a></i>&nbsp;[link] (interesting book) and started <i><a href="http://www.lifeofpi.co.uk/">The Life of Pi</a>&nbsp;</i>[link].<br /><br />I decided to make Thai pumpkin soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.<br /><br />The power did not return.<br /><br />I decided the last 25% of my iPhone battery life should be spent listening to the audiobook version of <i><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-scarlet-letter-audiobook/id294182889">The Scarlet Letter</a>&nbsp;</i>[link] (free on iTunes!).<br /><br />I wrote three letters by candlelight.<br /><br />I went to bed at 9:45 p.m.<br /><br />I woke up at 7:15 a.m. Still, no power.<br /><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I took a shower with just my <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2008/08/lighter-up.html">Nalgene solar lantern</a>&nbsp;[link] to light my way.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I put on every pair of long underwear I own and then jeans, two sweaters, two pairs of socks, and my <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/2008/03/brrits-cold-up-here.html">super slippers</a>&nbsp;[link].</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I boiled water and washed dishes.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I visited my favorite vegetable seller in the bazar and brought her throat lozenges (she is sick).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I went looking for electricity to charge my phone (futile attempt).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Hut_2cAaI8/Trp2IMiYk2I/AAAAAAAACcY/BQYAFnPG8N4/s1600/11snowstorm1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Hut_2cAaI8/Trp2IMiYk2I/AAAAAAAACcY/BQYAFnPG8N4/s200/11snowstorm1.jpg" width="200" /></a>I returned home and by 4:50 p.m., the lights were flickering on and off. I unplugged my refrigerator.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I melted the ends of candles so they would stand upright in a dish.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My host brother called. We went and got tea. He showed me pictures of his most recent trip to the U.S.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I returned home to semi-constant light (8:30 p.m.).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I woke up at 7:45 a.m. and the lights were on! I wonder if that milk is still good?<br /><br /><i>(Apparently parts of town are still without power and local gossip is that it will be a week before everybody has power again. Geez.)</i><br /><br />So, what is the point of this story? Well, I learned two things:<br /><ol><li>Using an electric space heater to heat your tiny apartment in a country where electricity is inconsistent at best is not fun; and,</li><li>I really should have brought more single-player board games that do not require ambient light...or, a solar-charger.</li></ol></div>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-79627352409236151792011-11-04T21:47:00.000-08:002011-11-04T21:47:27.572-08:00My Last Halloween<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cJQJo7jE-6k/TrTNdfDm1MI/AAAAAAAACb0/Hf-14lrMy1g/s1600/11hallow1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cJQJo7jE-6k/TrTNdfDm1MI/AAAAAAAACb0/Hf-14lrMy1g/s200/11hallow1.jpg" width="150" /></a>A few days ago, I had the opportunity to read a <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12063245-aralen-dreams">book written by an RPCV</a> [link]. Although the book itself was not my cup of tea (I am more of an economic commentary &amp; sci-fi fan), I was reminded that Peace Corps work is hard. For all the exciting projects and events we got going on, so much falls through the cracks. Whether it's a sudden change in plans, a failure on the part of the PCV to really explain, or a disinterest by the local community, it's not infrequent for a PCV to experience gut-wrenching setbacks.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o4KjWYGAmpQ/TrTNeMs_TpI/AAAAAAAACb4/7HnftWD8fdM/s1600/11hallow2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o4KjWYGAmpQ/TrTNeMs_TpI/AAAAAAAACb4/7HnftWD8fdM/s200/11hallow2.jpg" width="150" /></a>This sucks. It's hard and hurtful and often requires quite a bit of energy to get back up, reassess, and go forward.<br /><br />For me, this has happened more times than I can count - often because I failed my community in some way. The good news is that I have learned and grown and know I am a better community-based development activist because of it. The bad news is that after each experience it's gotten harder and harder to get back up. Recently, I have really struggled with this. I want to cancel events even before they happen because I am afraid something will go wrong.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUM-E4qusng/TrTNe5pSWkI/AAAAAAAACcA/95niSG4PfBQ/s1600/11hallow3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUM-E4qusng/TrTNe5pSWkI/AAAAAAAACcA/95niSG4PfBQ/s200/11hallow3.jpg" width="150" /></a>Anyway, a&nbsp;few months ago, I knew Halloween was going to be my last big bash in Azerbaijan. It's my job to organize cultural exchange events and if I was going to get myself up once again, my favorite American holiday was a great excuse to pull out all the stops.<br /><br />My dad lead the call - asking my home community (<b><i>Nome, Alaska!</i></b>) to donate decorations and treats. My site mate Jessica bought the pumpkins and my other site mate Mike brought the kids. Over 20 younguns showed up and actually partied. We had masks, decorations, costumes, dirt cake, and pumpkin carving. Several local counterparts (young women from the summer art program) came to help with the mask making and pumpkin carving, while a duo of former FLEX kids helped translate and explain why we carve pumpkins. If there was any reason I haven't given up in frustration, it was moments like that. Such a great note to begin saying good-bye on.<br /><br /><i><b>Special thanks to the community of Nome, Alaska, Jessica A., Mike R., Jane R., Aaron M., Şəbnəm, Ramilə, Tellar, and Sakina.</b></i>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-27149685248608682292011-11-02T23:42:00.001-08:002011-11-03T06:22:37.047-08:00Religion & the VolunteerI think I have been reading too many young adult novels because every witty blog title I can think of has a Percy Jacksonesq thing going on.<br /><br />Anyhoo...Peace Corps and regligion. Geez. I feel like I am trying to pack in all those last minute thoughts into two months of blog posts. Sorry. Sorry my revelations are just now coming. I totally should've been on this years ago.<br /><br />So, yeah, Peace Corps and religion. I hope by now all you wonderful readers know Peace Corps is an apolitical and non-religiously affiliated international aid/peace fostering organization. If you don't, well, read my <a href="http://farfromnome.blogspot.com/p/peace-corps-info.html">50 Tips in 50 Days</a>&nbsp;[link]&nbsp;page. That should help.<br /><br />Peace Corps has a very clear cut policy against [religious] proselytizing. For me, it's not hard to follow because I don't talk about religion with host country nationals. I mean, if I am with other Americans and they ask me about my religious affiliation/beliefs, I am more than happy to share, but, while acting as a PCV I following a strict, "uh huh. Not gonna talk about it," policy. This is just me. It was a decision I made early in my service and I don't regret it one bit.<br /><br />I just don't like the assumption that all Americans are Christian. I also don't like the language used to describe non-Judaic religious or non-religious groups/persons (locally). For me, it's important to accept a person regardless of their religious or non-religious beliefs and I find that my role here is often showcasing how a person is worthy of respect whether you know their faith background or not. I also work hard at expressing my willingness to learn about Islam. It's a hard road to travel, but I find it ultimately more rewarding. Teaching tolerance is one thing. Showing tolerance and a willingness to learn is quite another.<br /><br />It probably seems weird to you all, but it has been important to me. In all honestly, I have come to some pretty hard truths regarding religion while serving and I am glad I have had the opportunity to uncover so much about myself and my beliefs. Still, it was never my intention to journey on that particular path nor bring anyone else along for the ride. Being apolitical and religious neutral has served me very well as a PCV, mainly because by removing those pieces of my personality, I also removed many reasons why some locals may suspect me for being here. Of course, my closer local friends know more about me than others, but my religion is still a non-topic. For me, this works. I also have promised to tell everyone what my religious leanings are once I am no longer a PCV, so that probably helps too.<br /><br /><br />löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-31715535347932706212011-10-31T09:58:00.000-08:002011-10-31T09:58:45.407-08:00Flash Mob<div style="text-align: center;">Sorry this took so long guys...busy weekend. Enjoy a video of our summer art program end-of-program flash mob while I work on another blog post!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/DXX9jZX5riA?fs=1" width="459"></iframe></div>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-25344570865659217392011-10-25T00:47:00.000-08:002011-11-08T06:19:57.943-09:00Peace Corps, Dating, & MarriageAdmit it, you've been waiting for this post. I mean, we all hear the rumors, the gossip, the statistics - now, let me blab on about it for the next 2 to 5 minutes.<br /><br />When I first started telling my friends and family I was considering Peace Corps, I couldn't believe how many people insinuated that in 2 years I would return married. It seems like everybody and their grandmother seems to think Peace Corps is some sort of marriage agency. With only 10% of Peace Corps Volunteers being married when the enter service (<a href="http://www.peacecorpswiki.org/Married_Couples">stat</a>&nbsp;[link]), the idea that the remaining 90% of us would pair off seemed a little unrealistic.<br /><br />And it probably is. I mean, don't get me wrong. I have seen a few PCVs pair off and even more marry Host Country Nationals. I have talked with RPCVs and it seems like everybody has got a story of a couple that made it. Upon further review, I think it's probably higher on the RPCV end as it makes sense RPCVs marry other RPCVs. I mean, this experience changes you and for some reason, it just seems natural to think RPCVs marry other RPCVs.<br /><br />Anyway, my point being don't bank on finding that special someone in Peace Corps. First off, dating while serving is hard. The potential partner pool is small and you often don't get to spend quality alone time (unless you think crowds of 5 or more constitute being alone). Awkwardness immediately springs to life when you watch people battle stomach issues or have mini-breakdowns because they cannot figure out how to pronounce the "g" with the little hat (gggghhhrr).<br /><br />Then, you throw in the living in different communities, the focus on your work, and the attention you must give to cultural norms...Well, you end up with not a great recipe for a healthy and successful relationship.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-APRRbWhFOTA/TqUlLSPPTXI/AAAAAAAACbc/KS8TnC1v0Kc/s1600/11lokiweird.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-APRRbWhFOTA/TqUlLSPPTXI/AAAAAAAACbc/KS8TnC1v0Kc/s200/11lokiweird.jpg" width="133" /></a>Granted, some of these things do push you together. It's easy to latch on to someone when the rest of your life is beyond your control. You may date people you never considered before and even fall hard in just a short period of time. This happens and it's hard to gain perspective when you are in the situation. I often hear PCVs talk about the "real world" when comparing PC life to life in the US. I can't say for certain, but I think a lot of us feel like this is just a wild experiment at times. Unfortunately, even with that feeling, the consequences here are just as real as any others - especially the broken hearts...<br /><br />Eh. My point is that PCVs do date and marry, but the percentage is just not as high as everybody thinks it is. I mean, if I, the most perfect person on the planet, am still single after 3 years, it probably means something is wrong with the situation, not me, right?löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-58322051034508573412011-10-22T04:40:00.000-08:002011-12-01T03:30:31.964-09:00The End is Nearing...I keep starting this post and then putting it off. I know I should stop writing, hit publish and then [really] begin the process of saying good-bye. I mean, in just a few short months, its gonna be that old adage<br /><blockquote><i><b>You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.</b></i></blockquote>Geez. [This is usually the point where I stop writing and instead queue up an episode of Star Trek Voyager].<br /><br />It's been such a wild ride. Just the other day, I came to another one of those big, life-changing realizations when I ran smack dab into another cultural habit that I have never heard of. It blows my mind that every day I learn more than a handful of new things even when I have been here for 3 (+) years.<br /><br />I mean, come on!<br /><br />It is just...whew. I cannot believe these past 3 years have gone by so fast. Wasn't I just celebrating turning 25 and heading off to begin my adventure? Didn't I just spend 30 minutes trying to explain to my host mom that it's not that I don't like milk it's that I <b><i>cannot</i></b> drink milk without horrible consequences (still have no idea how to say consequence in Azerbaijani)?<br /><br />Time has really flown by and here I am, procrastinating on the next step. I still have yet to really get down to the nitty-gritty of job searching (I am holding out for my dream fellowship) and I haven't even confirmed my COS date with staff. All I got is a ban on out-of-country travel (during a&nbsp;PCV's first three months and last three months of service, travel outside of their host country is prohibited) and an email box full of end-of-service documents to start working on.<br /><br />Geez (again)...I will keep you posted on what's what - unless you all have suggestions…löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-15459340439652033332011-10-19T23:46:00.000-08:002011-10-19T23:48:50.509-08:00Learning to Be Me...Part 3Peace Corps Azerbaijan does a fantastic job preparing a Volunteer for service - maybe, they do it a little too well. When you get all those country documents in the mail, you become overwhelmed. It sounds like you are moving halfway around the world to a land unknown - and you kind of are. For me, when I got here, I started to assume (again, assumptions...) that Azerbaijanis were like Americans because people dressed similar, there was a lot of mainstream media and music going around, and nobody looked like a Vulcan [Star Trek reference!].<br /><br />But don't be fooled. Azerbaijani culture is not American culture.<br /><br />It took me a few months and a lot of frustration to slowly realized as much as much as they are same on the surface, the underlying factors are nothing alike (our countries' uniquely different histories should have been my first clue). I became scared to assert myself because I didn't want any more miscommunications. I wore the clothing style suggested by Peace Corps and I acted like I was told during training.<br /><br />In retrospect, that was the best way to handle the situation.<br /><br />My community had to learn to trust me and the only way they could learn to do so is if I showed them I was willing to adapt and integrate into their society. I had to build my own credibility before I could assert my individuality. A pretty popular linear chart shows the difference between Western and Eastern societies as the difference between individual and community-oriented cultures. Azerbaijan is a community-oriented culture. If I had come in here waving my individuality flag, I would have had an uphill battle on my hands. For a country with lots of access to mainstream media, they don't have a lot of access to Western culture. How could they? It's not like t.v. has developed a technology that inputs cultural concepts, beliefs, and traditions into your living room.<br /><br />Anyway, it took me two years to figure out how to be an individual in a community-oriented society. Peace Corps had asked me if I was willing to wearing hijab to volunteer, but I never took that to the next step and asked myself if I was willing to mute parts of my personality to volunteer.<br /><br />I understand that to be a part of Azerbaijan, I have to adapt accordingly. The better I integrate, the safer I am and the easier it is work. Now, there are some things that I refuse to mute:<br /><blockquote>My beliefs on child safety, human rights, the iconic influence of Star Trek...</blockquote>But there are other things that are&nbsp;no brainers to me. I don't have to wave my individuality flag to know I am still American.<br /><br />Finding this balance has been hard, but&nbsp;I have learned how to read the situations better. I generally wear what I wore in the US (after using my sister as a personal shopper and updating my wardrobe) and use my mad language skills to explain why I act a little differently. I think I can do this now because I took the time to invest in my community and just because I have convictions does not mean I have to be adversarial. It is work - but I think that is the point.löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-41215133229359199842011-10-16T22:53:00.000-08:002011-10-16T22:57:19.566-08:00FINALLY - A post about Ukraine!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7FbdKFpZ_hE/TpvPgz_u20I/AAAAAAAACZQ/aYUQoANcgow/s1600/11ukraine1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7FbdKFpZ_hE/TpvPgz_u20I/AAAAAAAACZQ/aYUQoANcgow/s200/11ukraine1.jpg" width="133" /></a>Okay. Here I go. I am sorry it took me so long to write this post, but there were a few technical difficulties.<br /><ol><li>My wallet was stolen.</li><li>My camera was inside my wallet.</li><li>I had to replace my custom made <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/82112463/pocket-clutch-in-ribbon-lattice-in-amber">Etsy wallet</a>&nbsp;[link].</li><li>My friend had to email me pictures (Internet access, firewalls, and all).</li></ol><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UQcpKwWFr7k/TpvPiLBooEI/AAAAAAAACZY/b4lVZ8gnDm8/s1600/11ukraine2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UQcpKwWFr7k/TpvPiLBooEI/AAAAAAAACZY/b4lVZ8gnDm8/s200/11ukraine2.jpg" width="200" /></a>Yup. Those were the difficulties. Of course, it did not help that my camera was taken in the first 2 days of my trip. What a way to make a birthday weekend spiral downward into a pit of despair...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-csQxwB-Uh7o/TpvPkKf83MI/AAAAAAAACZg/6xESk-hMLrA/s1600/11ukraine3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-csQxwB-Uh7o/TpvPkKf83MI/AAAAAAAACZg/6xESk-hMLrA/s200/11ukraine3.jpg" width="200" /></a>Anyway, Ukraine was pretty darn neat. My friend Gio and I started off in Kiev and hopscotched our way to a few other key locations (Odessa and Lviv), with a day-trip to Sevastopol. Although I did not want to leave, I felt 2 weeks was a great amount of time to get a flavor for the country. The hostels were great and I very much enjoyed the change-up in culture and scenery. The backpacking scene was fantastic and we met some good people along the way. My only regret was (well, two if you count my stupidity with my wallet) not having a more solid grasp of restaurant Russian vocab, but eh. It just gives me more incentive to really get cracking on the books now.<br /><br /><i>All pictures courtesy of Gio G.</i>löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3246333275509977045.post-17173470265864479562011-10-14T00:09:00.000-08:002011-10-14T08:36:21.271-08:00The First Two Years (Part 2)Continuing on with this multiple parter, I am writing about how I came to be the PCV I am today. In this installment: <b><i>Löki and the Miscommunications</i></b> (I have just started reading <a href="http://percyjacksonbooks.com/">Percy Jackson and the Olympians</a> [link]).<br /><br />Anyway...moving on...even with the 3 months of pre-service training, I was not prepared to deal with the miscommunications that arose between myself and my Azerbaijani counterparts. Now, Peace Corps doesn't shirk away from preparation, but you can only learn so much in the safe and protective environment of pre-serving training. PC staff, LCFs, training host families - they all have had ample exposure to Peace Corps and/or have relatively quick access to PC support services.<br /><br />Take all that away and you got yourself a Peace Corps host site.<br /><br />Now, don't get me wrong. It would take paragraphs to explain the amount of work PC puts into preparing a host site for a volunteer, but PC cannot cover every base.<br /><br />I made the mistake of assuming my host community had the same amount of extensive exposure to the bureaucratic arm of Peace Corps Azerbaijan as my training site did.&nbsp;Of course they didn't. <b><i>Peace Corps is not represented by the main office in [insert city here], but by the relationship a host community has with its Volunteer</i></b>.<br /><br />It didn't occur to me to <b><i>really</i></b> take the time to explain who I was, my skill sets, or why I was living in Zaqatala to anybody. I just assumed everybody knew what Peace Corps was and what I had come to do. Again...assumptions...<br /><br />Anyway, I wish I had realized that I needed to build my own credibility on day one. It would have allowed me to circumvent so many miscommunications.<br /><br />I get it though. We do it the US. When looking for work, I submit a cover letter and a resume. There are interviews and probationary periods. I have to earn the right to be considered a member of a non-profit team. Why would my Peace Corps situation be any different? Just because I am a volunteer does not mean people should automatically accept me, especially if I want to work with their kids.<br /><br />The story ends with it took me almost a year to realize that I should be leading with the cultural exchange part and then moving on to community development. Now when I meet a new person (any new person), I take that first ten minutes to explain who I am, where I am from, why I am here, and who I work for. I try to be patient and answer all the questions in a culturally appropriate way. I drop counterpart names and talk about what I like about Zaqatala. Even if the person is just a passerby, I know I am meeting the vision of Peace Corps with every new relationship I make.<br /><br /><br />löki galehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05714052953448298570noreply@blogger.com